Just so I make it clear, 'appetized' is not a real word, and Valentine's day is long past, isn't it? My bad, sorry.
Incident Twelve
In which Marui is kissed
Kirihara was almost kissed
And Fuji narrowly avoided being kissed
Marui liked his cakes sweet but his gum slightly sour. However, when blended into one puddle of a sticky, mushy mess, he found himself less than appetized. In fact, he was rather disgustedly, dreadfully, dazedly, and despairingly disturbed. His gum was sour as ever, but that pinch of sugar just made everything go wrong. Very, very, horribly, horribly wrong.
"W-what…" Marui was breathless. "W-what the hell was that?"
"Happy Valentine's day, Bun-Bun-chan." Niou was cringing like crazy as he let those words roll off his tongue with an elegant sigh that topped off the perfect scene. He felt no shame, and if he did, he did pretty well in hiding it. Perhaps it was the expression of pure shock blended with shear horror on the boy's face that made everything worth it, or perhaps it was the pale onlookers that shrank away with horrified looks. Either way, Niou felt thoroughly satisfied with his Valentine's Day.
"…Tastes like green apple…" the Trickster noted as he sauntered off looking for Yagyuu.
Fuji was bored.
The week was proving dreadfully monotonous and dull, probably due to the showers that didn't allow tennis practice to occur. He felt restless when he wasn't on the court, and nothing could take his mind off of the sport, not even when Eiji invited him over to play video games with Ryoma. Though he found some joy in watching the young boy squirm under pressure, it still wasn't enough to satiate his new hunger for something… something… something like that approaching figure coming his way right now.
"Saeki!" Fuji exclaimed.
"Fuji!" Saeki returned in equal enthusiasm. Though it was raining a fair good deal, neither hesitated in instantly retracting their umbrellas as they ran towards each other. They stopped once they realized that they didn't have any shelter to take under in the other.
"I thought we were going to share your umbrella like we did way back when," Fuji pouted, which made all good sense seeing how he hadn't been able to pull of this attitude for a while.
"But didn't we use to share yours?" Saeki asked. The two just stood there looking at each other with quizzical looks all the while getting very much soaked—not that they really cared now—and sheepish smiles before finally realizing:
"Ah! We shared Yuuta's umbrella!"
"More sugar? Cream? Anything?"
The Yamabuki player was happy, no, he was more than happy, he was absolutely delighted. What he found loitering around with a rather lost and confused look on his face was an object that can only be described as fascinating. With drops of rain riddled in his curly black locks, his cheeks of rosy hue, and his lips formed into a slight frown as tiny spurts of whines escaped them, the teen seemed to resemble a little kitten having had lost its way on its sneak visit to the fish market. A kitten that could bite and scratch you for the better of it that is. Of course, Sengoku wasn't the least bit intimidated. In fact, he was very much overjoyed to have spotted the boy in an overwhelming crowd. (Praise to his eyes. Oh how he loved them so.) So without much more reason, Sengoku had scrambled to his object of interest in a flash, and before the boy knew what was really happening, he had unwillingly found himself seated in a pleasant little café a ways from the main stream of people, having a cup of coffee and a slice of strawberry cheesecake with the last person he had expected in the world.
"I'm fine, really," Kirihara Akaya insisted, suppressing the very strong urge to sigh and grimace. What was the guy's name again? Lucky… something… eh… He seemed vaguely familiar, but the only thing he could recall about the other was that he was from Yamabuki from the green and yellow jacket he was wearing. Kirihara stole another look at him, hoping that some more fragments may surface and he wouldn't feel like he was sitting with a stranger in a café. To sum it up, Sengoku looked like a sort of demented leprechaun from a children's picture book, orange hair and all. Kirihara shook his head as he went back to poking at whatever kind of pastry was on his plate. It looked like some sort of cake, only as far as he knew, cakes weren't suppose to be orange and purple, were they? His brain whirled as he thought back to all those times Marui brought some kind new cake or dessert to practice, only to find it rather blank or in very minimal detail. However, he did remember something blue, and another one that looked like it was half decayed, but his sempai had insisted that it was some kind of foreign delicacy. Yeah, like Kirihara would ever want to eat mold.
His eyes then lifted themselves from the table, filled with delicate arrays of blue China, (it was a very sophisticated place) and found his gaze directed at the pattering rain outside. He wondered briefly how buying daikon radishes and leeks for his mother turned into such an encounter. It's not that it was entirely unbearable to be with Sengoku, it was just… strange. Yeah, that was it, strange. Very, incredibly strange.
"Kiri-chan? Kiri-chan? Hello? Are you alright? Kiri-chan?" Kirihara's train of thoughts skittered to an abrupt stop as he snapped back into reality. The first image his eyes digested as he turned his head around on instinct were two round orbs of bluish green, peering down on him, and occasionally… blinking? Kirihara drew a tight breath as his brain realized what the two objects were: Sengoku's ever-curious eyes.
Damn…
"What. Are. You. Doing." Kirihara said stiffly, emphasizing every word down the letter. His lips were in a scowl, and his hands were clenched onto the edge of his seat so hard that his knuckles had turned white. Needless to say, Kirihara had never been so… physically close to anyone before. Sengoku, however, didn't even catch a whiff of the tension in the other teen, his legs still propped up on the chair and his chin still rested on his hands, body leaning over to the other. It was then, up close, that Sengoku noted many of the finer details of the person seated across from him.
Kirihara looked like an elf; that's what Sengoku decided. His eyes were sharp and piercing, and of a color something deeper than emeralds. His face was pointy in a sense, and so were his ears, which looked like something you'd find attached to one of Santa's little helpers. At this, Sengoku couldn't resist a smile. Right. If Kirihara were one of Santa's little helpers, then all the children in the world may have as well just given up and Christmas as they probably would've been bombarded with disjointed doll parts, broken pieces of chu-chu-trains, or huge lumps of cold, hard coal. Someway or another, Kirihara would've found his way into Santa's' stash with that conniving little mind of his. But Christmas wasn't just all about the presents and gifts, right?
"But Kiri-chan, you're so cute!" Sengoku squealed, and much to Kirihara's dismay, the lucky little leprechaun extended a slim hand to his cheek and started pinching it. Pinching it, like some old grandmother would do after they've hopped across the pond known as the Atlantic and are just so overjoyed to see you that their first gift to you is a sore cheek. Kirihara did not enjoy it one bit, though he couldn't exactly say he wasn't use to it. Niou had just insisted on giving him birthday pinches, and his cheeks still screamed in agony at just even thinking of that experience. (Though it was nothing compared to the obligatory Birthday Smooch that Niou was intent on giving everyone. Now that Kirihara thought about it, his teammates sucked at giving gifts. The stick. Kirihara still remembered the stick.)
"What. Are. You. DOING?!" Kirihara hissed dangerously as he tried to scoot his chair back, only to find that it was one of those places where they had none sliding chairs in order to prevent you from scraping the floor into a mess of streaks and lines. (So convenient) Helpless, the little elf was trapped as Sengoku initiated cheek torture on him. Kirihara thought this was all very unfair as not only was he unable to dodge out of it, he couldn't even hit him in public because Sanada was getting tired of having hospital bills sent to him courtesy of Kirihara's wrath.
"But Kiri-chan elf! Didn't you ever know you and I, Sengoku leprechaun, are practically related?" Sengoku insisted as he pointed to himself, his other hand still poking around Kirihara's face, and a couple of times nearly missed his eye. No, don't want to damage those jewels. After all, how many emeralds do you know can turn ruby red? Kirihara looked at the said leprechaun with a face splashed with pure horror. The person in front of him was like a Niou clone or something, or maybe it was the original? Kirihara shuddered. He couldn't even imagine what life would be like with two Niou personalities floating around. One was more than enough. Yes, way more than enough.
… Little did Kirihara know that there were four other Niou personalities floating about out there, including the guy himself. Life's a bitch to you…
Oshitari was in dismay. He had, once again, been dragged to Atobe's mansion and was now forced to sit through another psychology session with his captain. Though there were no coffee and garden hose this time, there was, instead, iced tea and showerheads, but that will come when it comes. Currently, the two were holding a civilized (or as civilized as the two can get) conversation about the only civilized topic they could touch upon: tennis. And, of course, you know that when talking to Atobe about tennis, there's bond to be a certain somebody (or somebodies) that always managed to pop up in the subject.
"I don't get it," Atobe muttered, forehead planted deep into his palm with silky tendrils of hair falling around his face. "I just don't get it."
"Atobe…"Oshitari sighed helplessly. He wanted to say something that would be the equivalent of a slap to the other, but no matter how he churned his brain, he just couldn't think of any string of words to sum up his emotions right then.
"It's so… so thrilling facing him. I get excited every time, and my heart's pounding with eagerness, yet… I know I can shine brighter than them, but… I just can't seem to… to…"
"Uh-huh… and how does this make you feel?" Oshitari asked with a smirk. He felt like a psychologist right then, asking questions to which he didn't want half the answers. Yet Atobe didn't seem to catch the spoonful of sarcasm Oshitari had dumped into his words, and let out an agitated growl as he shook his head in agitation.
"I don't know. I feel excited, yet a bit scared as well, and… a bit anxious I suppose," Atobe said. Oshitari merely nodded as he wondered if this emotional wreck in front of him was really Atobe. "What does it mean, Oshitari? What does it mean?"
Oshitari was slightly taken aback at this. As he chewed thoughtfully on his straw, he wondered whether he should tell Atobe what he wanted to hear, or what he himself wanted to hear. He decided that since there was nothing to burn his pants this time, it gave him free passage to entertain himself a little bit.
"It means," Oshitari began as he finished the last of his tea, "you're in love."
"You're in love?"
It was by chance that Saeki and Fuji should happen to stumble across Hiyoshi Wakashi. They found him sulking on the stairs that lead to the street tennis courts, drops of rain sliding down his auburn tendrils, and eyes heavy as fog. Had it not been for his tennis bag, the two would've passed on by, not knowing that this sad figure had came from the proud Hyoutei team. Of course, they did realize, which was really what was important, and after seeing his disasterifical (which, mind you, isn't a word at all) state, the two just simply couldn't walk away.
Well, actually, Fuji considered doing so as he didn't really care much about the boy, but Saeki simply couldn't leave anyone dripping wet, miserable, and alone in the cold rain. Dragging Fuji by the arm, Saeki approached him with a concerned gaze. Naturally, since Saeki hardly knew him at all, it would've been improper to simply go up and demand what put him in such a devastating state, so precaution was to be attended to:
"It's none of my business, but whatever it is, Hiyoshi-kun, I hope you feel better about it."
Fuji was appalled. It wasn't because Saeki had dished out a completely Oishi-mother-like comment, but it was because he had offered their umbrella. (Well, actually it was Yuuta's whom they stole it from a while back as he so conveniently walked down the street. "Look, Yuuta! Instead of your umbrella, you now have the two of ours! ) Though Fuji desperately made apparent efforts to snatch it back, it was all in vain, and then that Hiyoshi had the nerve to actually accept it! And that mumble surely couldn't have been a thank you, could it?
And now, thirty… four minutes later, they were seated in the corner of the Deviant trying to counsel the poor soul that had been drained of his passion towards life and all things in existence. While Saeki might've found this all to be fun and games and delightfully amusing, Fuji was a little less than enthusiastic about the whole idea. He didn't hold any sort of grudge against Hiyoshi, but he'd rather not be stuck inside on a rainy day listening to dramatic love tales, no matter how enticing he found them in over-the-top nightly television dramas he watched with Yumiko.
"And then, when I finally got there, she wasn't there anymore, but inside with another man. I fail at life…"
"Don't say that, Hiyoshi-kun. If she had the nerve to do that to you, then she doesn't deserve you," Saeki said. Then he added in a barely audible tone, "I think…"
"That's right, Hiyoshi-kun," Fuji began in a honey-sweet tone. Upon further inspection, one would find its core was of resentment. "You just go see her and explain it all. Preferably… now."
"Now?" Hiyoshi asked, genuinely surprised.
"Yes, now," Fuji replied.
Before Hiyoshi could really respond to what was happening around him, he found himself booted out the door by a smiling Fuji waving giddily behind him with a sharp twinkle in those blue-blue eyes. Hiyoshi opened his mouth as if you say something, but the door was already closed and the blinds drawn and Hiyoshi was left in utter stupor. First his girl rejected him, and then his tennis peers rejected him. What was next? Rejection by his family? Hiyoshi couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take the drama, the pain, the fears, the rejection.
So he got up and went to an ice-cream parlor to drown his misery in the only thing that could possibly understand the melancholy that plagued his lonely, lonely heart.
"Fuji, why did you do that?" Saeki exclaimed, shocked by the actions of his friend. Fuji merely frowned. "I'm going after him."
"Why?" Fuji asked, his eyes solemn and lips arched down. Saeki felt a spark run down his spine. His Fuji-Senses told him that the boy wasn't particularly happy, and his Fuji-Senses were always right.
"Are you… jealous?" Saeki asked, an uncharacteristically devious smile creeping up his lips. Fuji promptly looked away, brunette locks swishing at his abrupt turn.
"Hmph!"
I.G.D.P.O.L.F. XIII
Chronicle IX
It was about several hours later that Fuji was finally able to fully get his body to function properly like he wanted to. As soon as he felt his power fill up within him and his senses renewed, he promptly flung away the raggedly blanket that was carelessly flung over his body and rose into the middle of the room releasing all the excess stress and frustration that had built up within him. He heard the columns of ice creak and crack, and considered briefly if he should topple the whole manor down, but quickly pushed that thought aside. Not only would Oshitari have been incredibly put off, but Fuji would've been incredibly drained after the effort and Oshitari would've probably had some incredible punishment in store for him. Fuji shivered uncontrollably at the horrid thought. Last time they played 'Punishment', Fuji was mentally crippled for the next three years, and his was nothing compared to the century A.W.O.L. Niou had received.
He forcefully composed himself and landed in the middle of the room and curled up into a ball. Fuji didn't like the cold. It was bitter, it did terrific madness to your nerves and it made Fuji feel helplessly lonely and alone… which he was…
Just when Fuji had begun to feel the first shivers crawl through him, he felt the room suddenly warm up. At first it was very subtle, but soon, the entire room was melting into a huge puddle, leaving Fuji very confused and very, very wet. If it weren't for the fact that he'd create a whirlpool, he'd begin swishing the water around right then to keep himself dry. As it turned out, he didn't even need that as the room soon became very tropical and extremely steamy with plants and all. He was now seated in at least a feet of water, and he honestly couldn't take it anymore.
"Niou, stop it," he demanded softly, as he knew the boy could hear. As soon as the words escaped his angry lips, the Trickster appeared in from of him through the smog, baby fireballs dancing on each of his fingers.
"Syusuke," he chided, looming over him looking very much like the ruler of Hell. His grin was crooked and wide and his eyes were burning with mischief. Fuji cringed.
"What is this?" he asked, voice low and quivering. Fuji was not happy at all. His eyes were glaring and bright through the mist, and the swishing of water as Niou approached made it all the worse… and damn he really needed to go to the bathroom…
"This?" Niou asked innocently as he encircled his arms around the boy, who shuddered at his grasp. "This is hell."
"And what are you?" Fuji asked.
"Me? I'm-"
"He's Niou, and if Niou doesn't relinquish the angel soon, Niou will get condemned to hell."
Fuji brightened at the voice. Now here was someone that could supply him with some answers and probably mix him a cup of decent cocoa at the same time. Turning his head towards the source, Fuji was delighted to see Saeki crawl through an over-growth of floral, eyes slightly irked, but seemingly delighted at the presence of the brunette. Fuji offered a smile, which Saeki returned with an exasperated but relieved grin.
"And who will be the one sending me there?" Niou retorted, sticking his tongue out at Saeki as he hugged the frail Fuji closer to him. "You weren't about to say, "I am", were you?"
"Actually, I was going to say that."
Fuji stifled a gasp as he saw Fabulous Diamond appear behind Saeki, the splitting image of perfection. At first sight, Fuji felt his status as an angel threatened by his awesome brilliance. While he seemed like he would be one to be singing in the angelic choir, this man seemed apt to be god himself. Perhaps, Fuji thought, that that was why this person was II and he was III. Jealousy instantly melted into curiosity and infatuation.
"Fine, take him," Niou mumbled as he pushed a thoroughly soaked Fuji into the grasps of Atobe. Though Fuji was glad away from the explosive temperatures of Niou, he found them much more agreeable than the icy grip of Atobe. The man, handsome and angelic he may be, was definitely not a warm creature, and Fuji felt his soaked clothes immediately brittle after five seconds in the arms of II. Saeki rescued him from being frostbitten.
"Saeki?" Fuji said softly, breathing in his friend's lovely scent of freshly washed clothes. … Mmm… lavender laundry detergent… and mint.
"Yes?" Saeki answered, patting the boy on the back.
"What's happening?" Fuji asked darkly.
"Oh, you'll see soon, very soon…"
Saeki made the best cocoa, Fuji decided. It was almost good enough to make the crystal room seem a few temperatures warmer than it actually was… but that wouldn't really have made a difference. He noticed that the others around him didn't seem to be too badly effected by it, though it was undeniable that they stared at his cocoa in pure envy, especially Sengoku who made several not-so-subtle attempts to try and take it away from him.
"Ne… Fuji-kun," he whined as he inched close to the boy. "We've been friends for oh… more than a millennium now, haven't we?"
"Well…"
"Can I have a sip of that? Just a little bit?" he pleaded, eyes wide and watery, feigning innocence and seeking pity. Fuji knew him well enough to know that 'a little bit' would rob him of his wonderful cocoa, and Fuji would really rather hog it all to himself. It was warm, smooth, chocolaty, thick, and overall incredibly delightful and put him into a dazed and dreamy mood that made the freezing cold room almost bearable. Maybe that's why Sengoku was so desperate for a bit of its heavenly goodness.
Noting the boy's hungry and jealous eyes, Fuji spared all slow enjoyment he had planned with his drink and hastily downed the whole cup in one gulp. Sengoku watched in horror as the boy gave a satisfied sigh, no doubt from the tingling warmth that was spreading from his delighted stomach. Fuji soon caught onto how broken he had set the boy up with that act, and gave a sheepish smile.
"Sorry, none le-"
"Sengoku, you can kiss him later, we have more important things to discuss."
"Right, like how we can finally go to heaven and all that crap?" Niou grumbled as he drew a facsimile of the wretched Contract in the frigid air with grey smoke.
"Yes, and 'all that crap'," Atobe said sarcastically. "Everyone, listen to what Inui has to say."
"As Atobe was saying before, but I'll clarify for those of you who weren't here to hear it," he nodded towards Fuji. "As you know, the contract dictates that we shall 'faithfully serve our lord, the Great Devious Oshitari Yuushi. Of course, that means it only applies to 'Oshitari Yuushi'."
"You can't mean…" Fuji began, bright blue eyes locked onto the boy in a curious, inquiring manner. "But there's not way we can change his name."
"Strike one, two, three, you're out. Bang!" Niou laughed as he blasted a nearby ice column. Atobe glared at him. "I'm bored, Keigo-chan!"
"Anyhow," Inui went on, clearing his throat as he demanded everyone's attention. "There is a way."
"Really?" Fuji piped. "Do tell."
"With this," Inui announced, whipping out a glass vial filled with ominous glowing liquid. "We can alter his gender…"
"… and get him married," Fuji said slowly, piecing it together. His eyes grew wide. "But how do we get him to fall for it? And ever then, who would marry…"
A great moment of thoughtful thoughts took place right then, only to be broken by Atobe's voice:
"It can't be one of us. It'll be too obvious."
"Then who?" Ryoma piqued, speaking for the first time. "There isn't anyone for miles, and we can't even be seen unless by humans unless they realize we exist!"
"Well, actually," Inui said, pushing up his glasses, "If it's a certain someone we're looking for, I know just the one."
"Really now?" Atobe said suspiciously. "And how come you didn't inform me of this earlier?"
"I thought we would concentrate on one thing at a time," Inui shrugged. "I don't think the love issue would be a big deal since I've found the perfect match, but getting Oshitari to actually drinking down the formula…"
"I'll handle that," Atobe said.
"But who's this person?" Saeki asked.
"Oh, I just happened to find him wandering around the perimeter yesterday night," Inui said. "Someone whom I'm sure we all miss very much."
There was a shocking silence as everyone but Ryoma's face drained of color. Even Niou, who was rarely was fazed, was dead silent with a stupefied look plastered to his face. There was the faint, unmistakable dripping of melting ice in the room, which made the situation all the more ominous. Ryoma began to feel rather uncomfortable. When his senpais were silent, that means something dramatic had back in the days when Ryoma had yet to join.
"You can't mean…" Sengoku began slowly.
"It can't be…" Saeki muttered.
"There's no way…" Niou picked up, shaking his head slowly but surely.
"No way he's alive…" Fuji said softly.
"Mukahi Gakuto…" Atobe sighed as he buried his face into the palm of his right hand.
"Reincarnated in the flesh," Inui said smirking.